


Bellamy Blake And The Red Lacy Bra

by namingmydaughtersherlock, noahsweetwine



Series: the things we could have heard [1]
Category: The 100
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, bellamy x clarke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/namingmydaughtersherlock/pseuds/namingmydaughtersherlock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/noahsweetwine/pseuds/noahsweetwine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a hungover Bellamy decides that Clarke's bra would make a good hat</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bellamy Blake And The Red Lacy Bra

 

"Bellamy?"

"Mm?"

"Bell?"

"What?"

"Have you seen my bra?" Clarke asks, digging her hands into the couch cushions. 

 

"Um, maybe."

Clarke sighs and straightens up. 

"Please don't tell me you've done something with it..."

"Well," He starts, "I can't exactly promise that–"

 

Clarke spins around and her jaw drops, he's got her bra, only instead of holding it, it's balanced on top of his head, the red lace contransting widly against his mess of brown curls.

 

"What are you doing?" Clarke snaps, extending her hand angrily. "Give me my bra back."

"What if I want to keep it?" Bellamy reaches up and adjusts it so it rests over his ears. "It makes a good hat,"

 

Clarke huffs impatiently. "Buy your own bra."

"But I want this one."

 

"Holy shit, Bell, how much  _did_  you drink last night?"

"A few drinks," he pauses, thinking.

 

"Well, actually it might have been more than a few drinks, I don't know, Monty just kept refilling my glass, you know how he gets," Clarke rolls her eyes. "Besides, don't you think people would look at me weird it I bought a bra?" Clarke reaches forward to grab it off his head, but Bellamy ducks out of the way.

 

"Don't you think people will look at you weird if you wear my bra as a hat?" She huffs, crossing her arms.

"There's no one here to look at me but you, Princess," He croons. 

 

"I'm serious. I need my bra to get dressed, and I need to get dressed so I can meet your sister, I've been putting off this lunch for weeks."

 

"Maybe that's my master plan, I don't give you your bra and then you won't be able to leave and then you have to stay with me here forever and ever and ever." He grins, "Besides, my shirt looks nice on you."

 

"Yes, but it isn't very lunch appropriate, and Octavia would hardly approve." 

 

"How about a trade?" He asks, ignoring her. "You give me your bra and you can keep my shirt," 

 

"How about you give me my fucking bra or I call Octavia and she will come get it for me." 

"Or," Bellamy pushes himself up off the floor, still managing to keep her bra on his head. "I could do this." And he kisses her. She makes a startled noise and stumbles backward, but he follows her, his arms snaking around her waist. And just as their lips are about to connect again, Clarke reaches up, pulls the bra off his head, and bolts.

 

Unfortunately there isn't really anywhere to run in Bellamy's tiny apartment so he's right behind her. She runs into his bedroom and,  _fuck_ , he's there, right behind her. He grabs her from behind, his rough hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her against him and down onto the bed. Clarke squirms. 

 

"Get off!" She yells, trying (and failing) to conceal a smile. "Get. Off." She tries again, a grin tugging at the edges of her lips. But Bellamy only grins and ducks his head, beginning to trail sloppy kisses up her jawline. Clarke bites her lip to keep from shivering.

 

"Get off....?" She whispers, not meaning it all at this time.

Bellamy stops. "Do you really want me to, Princess," he says, smirking down at her. Clarke reaches up and tugs his lips back into her own. He kisses her for a few more seconds before pulling back and pressing his mouth against her neck, trailing kisses down until he reaches her collarbone. And it's like she's drowning all over again, but in a good way. So she wriggles impossible closer, and Bellamy smirks against her neck. 

 

"You know I love you right, Princess?" He asks, looking up at her. 

 

"I love you too, Bell," She says, grinning right back.

 

"I love your bras too, you also know that right?" Clarke rolls her eyes. "And I like your shirts," She says.

 

"But," Bellamy smiles, "I think its better when you're not wearing a bra or a shirt..." He says, fingers dancing across her lower stomach.

 

"Well I think its better when you're not wearing a bra on your head." Clarke jokes, "Though your shirtlessness isn't that hard on the eyes either." 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading  
> (comments are life)


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